Fortune
by AC Tadhg
Summary: Between Miss Spink and Miss Forcible, April liked to think that she was the wiser, saner one of the two...well, at least on most days. A Wybie/Coraline romance through the eyes of Miss. April Spink.


AN: I would like to say that this is based more so on the movie then it is for the book, obviously for the fact that Wybie is in it and I use script from the end of the film in my writing (You'll also have to be nice about the fact the lines in the beginning might not be exactly what's said word for word in the film because I lent my copy of Coraline to my step uncle so I had to base things on my memory). I'm so so so excited 'cause I've had a faint idea of how I wanted my Coraline oneshot to be and it didn't exactly come out the way I planned but I'm still super proud of it.

I don't own anything, at all. :)

Fortune

"_Well not to worry, child: it's good news. There's a tall, handsome beast in your future..."_

Between Miss Spink and Miss Forcible, April liked to think that she was the wiser, saner one of the two.

Well, at least on most days.

Most days throughout the year the round redheaded lady would scold her obtuse, theatre friend with rapid threats and feisty remarks like, "_Don't hover near the green doormat or it'll snow again, you blind bat!_" or "_Miriam, I'm quite certain Donovan Finchtley fancied me, not you..._" This often happened when she stood over the kitchen counter, brewing organic oolong tea from Zanzibar or when she was fixing the golden feathers on Angus' matching vest before the old York Terrier saw its last days of life underneath the cluttered and sometimes dusty (she had read a long time ago that if you kept a living environment too clean, lizards are more likely to inhabit your home) basement in the Pink Palace.

The old redheaded woman once heard in a theatre subscribed magazine that as you age, you lose a touch of fire from within, like a lost or broken thread in your body that does not wish to heal or be found. April refuses to believe such nonsense, for fussy arguments over whether or not milk was good or bad for you still echoed throughout the artistic underground apartment April referred to as home.

Home, however, was not were the two theatre vixens were at the moment.

During this sunny afternoon on a late August morning the actresses were consuming themselves in the heavens of nature, planting flowery creations deep in the dark soil.

"Oh look, April," said Miriam, lifting her olive coloured glasses in front of her fading eyes as she finished dropping a tiny red tulip into a hole of dirt, "Pink Ladies."

Eight multi-coloured cups appeared before the elderly women with ice filled to the very tips on what looked like an antique silver platter that shinned brightly against the beaming sunlight. An indigo haired girl held the serving dish with a grin stitched on her wide face.

"Actually," Coraline replied with a flicker of light in her eye, "it's just lemonade."

Slurping on the straw, as the thin navy coloured female left to serve more drinks, the redhead noticed a light scarlet tint creeping up Coraline's cheeks as the child jostled over to the front gate with excitement, approaching the old land lady and her grandson. Puzzled by the adolescents' behaviour, April circled the outsides of her drink with her fingers.

"April, I wonder if Caroline knows that having blue hair brings more rainy days after she turns thirteen."

Miss. Forcible had watched the same scene occur before her hazy cobalt eyes, but saw something entirely different.

Preposterous, sapphire hair did not attract precipitation until the age of _fifteen_, not thirteen. Miriam has the dates all wrong in her head, and like any good friend attempting to guide a mislead companion, the red woman corrected Miss Forcible. While completely forgetting about Coraline and her peculiar manners that lead her to transform into a tomato, April began to weave her way into a complex web of bickering.

"I'm very sure that it's thirteen. Remember in day school when Daphne Westfield coloured her _revolting_ blonde locks a navy blue on her thirteenth birthday for '_Faust'_? It rained for _months_..." gawked Miriam, pushing the dark earth deeper to create another opening.

"Dear, Daphne did not colour her hair until after '_Faust_,' and surely if you remember precisely she coloured it _lavender_."

"I'm quite sure it was navy blue." April handed another pink tulip from the box over to her pear shaped comrade, rolling her eyes as she did so.

"Lavender."

"_Navy blue_."

The bickering changed and continued until the sun had reached its low. The flowers now had a place to grow, and the new neighbours were now saying their 'goodbyes' and 'thanks yous' to their helpful garden workers.

And after that sunny summer day, April Spink had forgotten all about the azure topped girl and those unusual cherry cheeks.

-

Constant rain transferred down from the skies, settling on a bulky, pink painted house that stood on nothing but bricks, wood, and glass. The colourless liquid drenched the mud altering ground, whilst converting the earth into a chocolate soup mix with a combination of rocks, twigs, and miniature insects. Small creatures twitched and fought against the violent sludge as it stirred into a stream, flowing downhill. These obscure streams detached from one another, forming rivers all drifting in different areas, producing intricate patterns within the terrain.

Above, flashes of florescent light accompanied the shades of grey in the atmosphere with a deafening noise from above.

Flowers that were planted what seemed almost decades ago gave off a lifeless odour, limping on one side from the continuous fluid. A true gift from above.

It was, indeed, a dismal day.

A dismal day for April Spink, who was searching with adamant hostility for her lost Terrier dog who was lead astray after a compromising situation involving a door, a keyboard, and a plate of old rice from the back of the fridge. But that doesn't have much importance to the story, so April refuses to go into specific detail.

The real dilemma of a lost dog during a wild and impulsive storm had forced Miss. Spink to haul on her colossal white raincoat over her tired shoulders as she wallops up and over the crusty steps. The vastly round body swayed back and forth, waddling like a penguin on a snowy day, head tucked in to avoid the buzzing freeze suspended over the area. Grimacing, April wrapped her sweaty sausage fingers on the railings to the left of her, using the object to aid and lift her up on the first step. The worn-down handlebar jerked from the pressure and the bar slanted downwards from the recent weight it had acquired. It creaked, wailing under the old lady.

If April had an audience under surveillance, watching her predicament, surely she would feel embarrassed.

That darned pup would be the death of her. Panting the heavy burden that had crept inside her skin over several decades, she took another stride forward, pushing her body up. Brushing upwards, she caught sight of two wet bodies, quivering under the cold. April's eyes skimmed the surface of the front entrance, where bushes adorned the front porch, blocking her from plain sight.

But April did glimpse closer to see two people. They were there, standing on the small wooden staircase. Or were they perched?

The old lady scolded herself once more, '_never mind those two and what they're doing you nosey moose!'_ She should be paying more attention in locating that fury scoundrel of a dog, which was most likely in need of a hot bath and a smack on the nose for being so disobedient and dirty.

"I – I like you."

Her head shot up at that, the voice had lost its confidence during the middle. It shuddered hoarsely with teeth audibly chattering, almost parallel to the rain drops that hit the tanned soil. Was that the Lovat boy? April moved closer from the stairway, sticking her head closer to the pale bush. Wanting to hear and observe more, she bent into the leaves, glimpsing at the two figures that shook.

Vibrating under the cold breeze, a shimmer of blue came into April's line of vision, a darker shade of navy stuck to the young girls pallid complexion as she huffed and snorted into the ambience. The vines and dim shadows of the dark shrub made things irritably vague for the old woman as she squinted further into the damp plant for an enhanced look at the scene set out before her. April could hardly distinguish the young girl, whose body direction made it impossible to see her face as her back was facing April. However, the indigo hair was unmistakable as she held a colourful festive hat with a candle pattern around the edges.

A birthday party, perhaps?

She was fidgeting quite hastily, her shoulder moving up and down. Up and down, up and down, she sucked up a breath of air into her lungs. Her voice just as rough as her male mate whose expression looked very frightened and pained.

"It's really weird, I-I-I know that it is," another sucked breathe came from Coraline as the male spoke. "But all I do, i-i-is think of you and then...everythings okay."

The only response she gave was continuous quiver; her whole body shuddered and broke little by little as the rain poured down from the skies. It almost appeared as though the girl was weeping. It was at that point that Miss. Spink moved her head so far that her cheeks breeched through the rough twigs, hanging on every word.

Nerves got to the Wyborne teen as he broke into an anxious chuckle; he scratched the back of his damp head. "Could yo-could you say something, please? 'Cause I'm k-k-kind of laying it all on the line here, Jonesy."

It was like April was sitting on a lumpy couch with a bowl of chopped liver skins in her lap as she viewed a romantic scene on her television screen, mirrored by the movement of her eyes. The only difference was that her body would have been warmed by the hot fire at the side of the living room, as opposed to her standing in the rain. However, it's the feeling that warmed her so much that coldness was lost to her.

The display was a tiny but less romantic for a chick flick (as the kids call them these days), for the sordid weather still affected the young couple and the young girl (who seemed to have a cold in her midst) coughed and sneezed as if she were cross. Another sob came up from the young navy haired girl as one hand came up to stifle the sound. Dropping the party hat, it landed on a big puddle of mud with a thud.

Arms took hold of the Lovat boy, wrapping up and around his neck like cords, weak and supple. A characteristic Miss Spink had never witnessed from the proud and guarded thirteen year old female. Coughing came up and into the black coat before her, and Coraline's breathe shortened drastically as her back heaved.

The Lovat boy didn't seem to mind one bit.

It came out as a whisper; April knew it was a whisper for the navy blue haired girl's mouth opened, lips moving in symmetry. It could only be heard by the couple, and not the elderly woman who watched and marvelled at the scene. The thunder and light that ricocheted off and into the grounds protected the two adolescents as they whispered into one another's ears, statements only heard by the wind.

April could only see the Lovat boy's smile as he heard her mummer, taking his hands into her wet blue hair... getting lost in it.

"_...having blue hair brings more rainy days after she turns thirteen." _

With that, the old woman smiled, turned her head away, giving the couple the privacy they deserved. They may have kissed and wept together, but April would never know and she preferred it that way.

Feeling less distraught then before she began her quest, the red haired lady stepped back and lent into the ramp, letting the rain soak her old and wrinkled face until it was young again. A wet furry creature found its way down the staircase and was currently latched onto the old woman, nudging the right leg for affection and warmth. Chuckling, April bent down painfully to reach and cradle the York Terrier it her arms, the dog wagging its tail happily at the sentiment.

"You found your way back home, have you? Well, com'on then. Let's get you inside."

"_Well not to worry, child: it's good news. There's a tall, handsome beast in your future..."_

Between Miss Spink and Miss Forcible, April liked to think that she was the wiser, saner one of the two.

Well, at least on most days. Fortunately, most days was not today.

-

Reviews = Love.


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